


Safe Harbor

by jazsy



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, M/M, Mermaids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazsy/pseuds/jazsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Jim is a mermaid. Bones is a surfer. Imagine the possibilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe Harbor

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to thalialunacy and andrealyn for encouraging and bribing me through this. ♥ 
> 
> Two more things:   
> 1\. Kathy Reichs wrote the books on which the show Bones was based.   
> 2\. Jim quotes Mary Oliver.

It's really too rough to be out on the waves today, but Len can't just sit around and watch the fucking rain anymore. He'd tried to focus on other things- read the latest novel by Kathy Reichs, or watch some  _Top Chef_  on dvr, or work on his drumming skills in Rockband. But no matter what he did, his brain always cycled back to  _she left me, Jocelyn left, she left and she took my fucking baby clownfish with her, she'll overfeed Joanna and she'll die, she left._  
  
The house was built on  _them_ , around  _them_ , and with her stuff and her self gone, it felt weird, alien. It didn't feel like home anymore. He couldn't relax, and after three days trapped inside by the rain, he'd been approaching twitchy.  
  
So he'd said fuck it, grabbed his surfboard from the sunporch and headed down to the beach. The ocean has always had a calming effect on him, whether it was just watching the waves roll in and slide out, or working him until he was too completely exhausted to feel anything but tired. Whatever else happens, he knows he'll always feel at home there.  
  
As he drops in, Len knows it's a bad idea, knows normally he'd be screaming at anyone who was out today (alone no less), and using his lifeguard status to force them to come in. But right now, he relishes the feeling of rebellion coursing through him, encouraging him to let go of his anxiety, to stop trying to breathe and just fucking  _go_. Working to find the pocket of the wave, his brain finally has a worthy challenge, and his frustration a tangible target to be unleashed upon. He feels like he could do this forever.  
  
Len is quickly and violently schooled.   
  
He doesn't get more warning than a a roaring as the wind picks up and sudden darkness as the wave closes out around him. He's knocked off his feet, and he can feel a sudden lightness as the leash connecting him to his surfboard snaps. Len fights down the panic that's threatening to overtake him - _can't breathe which way is up could get hit by the board pulled out in the riptide darkness death_ \- and forces himself to open his eyes, but all he sees is swirling blue and white. He tries to stay calm and remember his training, but he's severely disoriented and his own body is distracting him as it clamors for oxygen. Len tries to swim somewhere, anywhere, but no matter what he does, he just gets pushed back.   
  
Suddenly there's a something on his right arm, strongly hauling him in that direction. Len's first instinct is to try and shake it off, but then he realizes it's a  _human_  hand, and so he goes with it, thanking god that someone else was dumb enough to be out today. They move quickly through the water, faster than Len's ever swam (and he was the fastest in his lifeguard class) and break the surface with surprising ease. Len gasps and coughs, but barely has time to catch his breath before his rescuer is hauling him towards the shore. The storm is still raging around them, and Len can't get a good look at who's helping him until they get into the shallower waves breaking on the sandy beach.   
  
Instead of dragging him all the way out of the water, the other gets him into the ankle-deep water and then  _shoves_  him the rest of the way. Len scrambles to his hands and knees and turns around to help his rescuer, figuring they must be tired, and is brought up short by what he sees:  
  
Sitting calmly amidst the crashing waves is a young man, about his age. He has blonde hair, the color of spread honey, and the most incredible upper body physique he's ever seen (and he's seen some). Strong arms, solid core- Len's wondering why he doesn't know this kid, he's lived here for years and met everyone who loved water sports as much as him.   
  
Len raises his eyes and finds the other man's open and watching him intensely. They are an insane blue Len's never seen on a person, the color you only find in the completely pure water you find off the coast of the uninhabited islands.   
  
And then a particularly strong wave crashes and the water pulls back farther than it was, and suddenly it's not the man's eyes Len is staring at.  
  
Instead of legs, this man has a long, gorgeous, teal and gold  _fishtail_. With  _fins_.  
  
Len blinks to clear the stinging salt water from his eyes and the man is gone; and Len is left sitting alone on the beach, thinking,  _holy shit that was a mermaid?_  and  _fuck he was hot._  
  
~  
  
It's a few days later and Len still can't get the image of the mermaid- merman?- out of his mind. It's a blessing in that he barely thinks about Jocelyn anymore, but he wishes the distraction could be someone he could actually hope to see again. Or fully believe ever existed in the first place, really.  
  
Fucking figures.  
  
It's his day off, and the only thing on his agenda is some coffee ice cream from the place up the road. He opens the door and gapes in shock.  
  
The mermaid - _merman_ \- is standing on his front lawn, holding his lost surfboard.  
  
Of course, he doesn't have fins now- now he's dressed in board shorts, a t-shirt, and flip flops. And Len wonders if imagined the whole fins thing the other day. He was really out of his mind, he figures; he wouldn't have been surprised to see a cow in the waves.  
  
He realizes he's staring when the guy waves and says, "Hey there- how ya feeling?"  
  
Len forces himself to step through the doorway and onto the lawn, nodding. "Ok, thanks. And I guess I should thank you for that- you saved my life. Leonard McCoy," he adds last-minute, holding out a hand.  
  
"Jim Kirk," the other man says, shaking it. Len does not,  _does not_  feel a little tingle go up his arm. He is  _done_  with the fairy tales.  
  
He shakes his head a little and reaches out to touch the surfboard. It's banged up, but not broken, which Len is profoundly grateful for. "I can't believe you found it," he says, "and how did you find out where I lived? And what were you doing out there that day? Do you know how dangerous that was-"  
  
He stops when he realizes Jim is laughing.  
  
"This isn't funny-"  
  
"You're not standing where I'm standing." Jim tries to stop, but clearly can't.  
  
Len tugs his surfboard out of Jim's hands and spins around in what he is aware is a huff, but doesn't care, and starts back up the porch steps.  
  
"Wait, wait, ok, I'm sorry, come back." Jim sounds more serious now, and Len stops but doesn't turn around.  
  
"To answer your questions, I ran into it not too far from where I left you, and I took it to the beach yesterday and asked if anyone knew whose it was. You're pretty popular around here, you know?"  
  
Len rolls his eyes. If by 'popular' Jim means, 'known for being sarcastic and cynical for his age'.  
  
"And, what else, oh. As for what I was doing out there, what were  _you_  doing out there? You're the one that had to be rescued from drowning."  
  
Len whirls around in anger, and opens his mouth to retort, but then realizes Jim has a fucking point, the jerk.  
  
"Extenuating circumstances," he mutters.  
  
Jim nods and grins, and there's wry humor in his eyes. "Me too, you could say."  
  
Len likes that smile, likes those eyes, and likes that Jim isn't put off by Len's temporary insanity.  
  
"You busy right now?" he asks Jim.  
  
Jim grins even brighter (Len feels like the sun dims a little, god, why won't it  _stop_ ) and shakes his head. "What'd you have in mind? Gonna jump off a cliff?"  
  
"Shut up, I'm offering to buy you ice cream."  
  
"Oooo, Chocolate Chocolate Chocolate?"  
  
"Whatever you want. It's the least I can do."  
  
"Sprinkles?"  
  
"How old are you, five?"  
  
Jim just laughs and gestures for Len to lead the way.  
  
~  
  
They click almost immediately- Jim can keep up with Len's sarcasm and dish out his own, and his sunny personality seems to balance Len's more stormy one, instead of conflicting with it. It's a sensation that Len's not used to feeling, and there's something almost relieving about it.   
  
After their ice cream and a subsequent wander through a local bookstore, he and Jim go on a mountain hike, because Jim claims he doesn't get to see the sky enough. Len has no idea what that means, but Jim is often incomprehensible and Len is learning to just roll with it. They're at the top, resting and staring out across the beautiful lush green foliage that grows in the rich volcanic soil, and Jim asks, "So, for serious, this time. What were you doing out there the other day? You could have died, and you're not that dumb."  
  
And Len finds himself pouring his fucking heart out to Jim, running his mouth more than he probably ever has in his life. Jim listens intently, asking questions and making comments and genuinely caring, no trace of prevarication anywhere on his person. He seems almost enchanted by Len, if Len were prone to thinking like a fucking  _Twilight_  book, which he isn't.  
  
He doesn't understand it, but he doesn't want it to stop, either. After awhile, he comes to his senses and makes a comment that he wants to hear more about Jim as well, but Jim only grins and says they'll get around to him eventually.  
  
And then Jim leans over and kisses him. Not just any normal first kiss, either; oh no, Jim doesn't mess around. By the time he's pushed his tongue into Len's mouth (not that Len minds, because god does he taste good, like chocolate and something vaguely sea-salty, and it's a mix Len can't get enough of), he's practically crawling into Len's lap, and Len totally encourages it, wraps an arm around Jim's back to pull him closer. He slides his other hand to the back of Jim's neck, playing with the hair there, and is thrilled when Jim gives a little shiver and presses closer.   
  
Jim's got his hands underneath Len's shirt, running up his spine, and Len loves the feel of it- his hands are cool and soft, like gentle waves lapping at your feet on a calm day. Len breaks the kiss to breathe (though this sort of drowning he wouldn't mind), but really only succeeds in moaning when Jim uses the break to pull Len's shirt off and start pressing sucking kisses to his neck, collarbone, his shoulder.   
  
Eventually, he manages to get Jim's shirt off too, and Len figures his imagination must be working really overtime because he swears he can feel  _sparks_  where Jim's bare skin touches his. Jim's board shorts are doing nothing to hide how hard he is, and Len goes to untie them, but Jim has other ideas, and quickly unties Len's instead and slips a hand inside. And around then Len forgets about his own plans in favor of gripping Jim's strong biceps and groaning into his shoulder.   
  
Jim leans down to kiss him, and something in Len snaps back to life at that. He resumes his earlier plans, and this time succeeds. Jim gives a strangled laugh of pleasure against his cheek, and there's a little bit of a kerfuffle as they try to work out position that isn't completely awkward. But once they do, oh fucking  _god_  is it good, Len doesn't think there is anything better; but he is proven wrong as Jim comes under his hand, flushed and panting, eyes lit up like Christmas.   
  
It's those eyes that send him over the edge himself, and when the whiteness fades, Len finds himself staring up at the sky, Jim wrapped around his chest, and he thinks that maybe he doesn't see the sky enough, either.  
  
~  
  
Jim begs to stay at Len's house for the night, claiming he has nowhere else to go, and Len has no reason to be anything other than completely stoked about that. And as Len falls asleep with Jim half on top of him, one hand resting in one of Len's, he thinks that this might be the happiest he's been in awhile.  
  
~  
  
Len wakes up suddenly in the middle of the night to find another storm raging outside and Jim nowhere to be found. Something twists in his stomach, and as he climbs out of bed, he is drawn to the window. The wind blows the raindrops almost horizontally against it, and every so often tree branches get in the way, but Len gets enough of a look to understand what's going on.  
  
Standing calmly, confidently, waist-deep in the violent waves, is Jim. He's facing the house, and though he can't see his face, Len gets the feeling he's waiting for something. Or  _someone_.  
  
Len's stomach twists again, and he throws on shorts and a t-shirt and bolts out of the house and down the sand. He doesn't stop until he's standing in the water next to Jim, hair plastered to his face and t-shirt clinging to his back. Jim, of course, looks perfect and unaffected. Lightning flashes, and Len sees a glint of something that is definitely not board shorts starting around his hips.  
  
"Who are you?" Len asks, too quiet in the howling wind, but he knows Jim can hear him when he grins.  
  
"My name really is Jim Kirk, Bones. James Tiberius Kirk."  
  
" _What_  are you?" he tries again, though Len knows he knows the answer to that; he's just in denial about it. And sure enough, Jim just gives him a look that says,  _I know you're not dumb, remember?_  
  
Len can't think of anything to say, doesn't know how to answer the somehow not impossible fact that he had spent an entire day eating, talking, having sex with a  _merperson_  (Len decides that this is the least ridiculous term). Suddenly, something else that Jim said manages to pierce Len's scrambling brain.  
  
"You called me Bones." And it now occurs to him that in all the time they spent together, Jim never called him by his name. Not once.  
  
Jim smiles, but his eyes are sad, their blue somehow darker than before. He moves closer to Len, sliding both hands up to cup the back of Len's neck, thumbs stroking his jawline. Len doesn't even think before responding, reaching his hands out to rest on Jim's hips. He consciously forces himself not to slide his fingers lower, though he has this huge desire to find out what those fish scales feel like.  
  
Jim leans his forehead against Len's, and his whispered words swirl around Len as if they were on the wind.  
  
"To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your life depends on it; and when the time comes to let it go, let it go."  
  
Len's heart aches, it actually  _aches_ , and he tightens his grip. "I don't want to let you go," he whispers.  
  
Jim's expression turns mischievous, smile reaching his eyes. "Then don't."  
  
There's something moving across Len's skin, he can feel it. He lifts up his shirt, but he sees nothing. Jim, however, takes this opportunity to pull the shirt over Len's head and toss it away. He then tug's Len's shorts a little lower, and away from his body, so that Len can see  _the fish scales forming on his own skin_.   
  
He stares in shock and not a little awe, and hesitatingly reaches down to trace them. They are beautiful deep royal blue edged with silver, and feel smooth as silk. He looks back up at Jim, trying to understand what this means.  
  
"You. I. Fuck. I can-"  
  
Jim's nodding eagerly, practically bouncing, and grab's Len's hand, makes to pull him further out into the water.  
  
"Wait!"   
  
"What?" Jim asks, as if turning into a merperson is the something that wouldn't, shouldn't be questioned. And Len doesn't want to, but he has to. This is big, this is huge. This is life-or-death. Len suddenly feels like he's been caught under those turbulent waves all over again. He forces himself to think, this time.  
  
"Why can't things just stay the way they are? We've been happy, well I have been, and I know," and he doesn't understand how, but he does know this, "I know that you were too. Why can't you just stay?"  
  
Jim's expression has lost its light, and he's shaking his head. "It's not like the Disney movie, Bones. I have the power to make this," he traces a finger over Len's scales, and Len represses a shiver, "happen, if you truly want it, but it only works one-way."  
  
"But you-"  
  
"Extenuating circumstances," Jim says with a rueful grin.  
  
Len looks back toward his house, thinking about all the things he'd be giving up. And then he finds himself looking back at Jim, thinking about how incredibly, impossibly good he's felt since he's met him, and he decides that if this is his chance to be even half that happy forever, he'll take it.  
  
He moves forward and brings Jim into his arms, holding him tight and kissing him with everything he's got. Jim returns in kind, and time seems to stop as they stand there, kissing in the middle of a fucking typhoon, and Len doesn't even care that he's thinking like a fairy tale anymore because his life has just become one.  
  
He pulls back just enough to whisper, "Yes" against Jim's mouth and can feel Jim's answering grin trying to break off his face. They keep kissing, but Jim begins tugging them backward, deeper and deeper into the water. Len can feel weird things happening all over his body, but he tries not to focus on them, choosing instead to focus on the warmth of Jim's mouth, the brush of his eyelashes against Len's cheek.  
  
When they're about up to their chins in water, Jim breaks the kiss and looks straight into Len's eyes as he pulls them both under. Len's body automatically takes a breath too late, and Len expects the foreign feeling of water in his lungs, but instead feels nothing, as if he were breathing open air. He opens his eyes and can see clearly, with no hint of the usual sting. He's not sure he can look down and see himself with fins yet, so instead he looks around.  
  
It's much quieter here, the sounds of the storm muted. The water moves quickly around them, but in swirls that seem more like patterns than the traps they once were. It's almost alive, something Len feels he could interact with, instead of just watching or fighting for control like he's always had to. As Jim pulls him deeper, a sense of calm settles over him. This feels natural, feels right, feels like he's been here before and was always heading back, feels...  
  
He looks over to catch Jim watching him, eyes glowing.  
  
Feels like  _home_.


End file.
